A Year Goes By
by Shaneey
Summary: The Order finds out, as does Ronald Weasley, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Pre-story Character Death, established HPDM & disregards DH.
1. A Year Goes By

**A Year Goes By**

by Shaneey

xxxxxxx  
A/N

Happy Birthday, Reno. Here is you Birthday fic. I know it seems a bit incomplete, but it just felt right to end it there. If you really want to the rest, I'll type up a Part 2 :)

I hope you're birthday was amazing, and if I have the dates correct in my mind (I left my watch at home, I have no idea what day it is.) then I'm very sorry I couldn't get this up in time.

-Oops

xxxxxxx

The blinding light shone in Draco's eyes, causing him to squint in the direction of the Order's Aurors, rather than gaze calmly as he would have preferred.

Of course, the calm would have been an act, how could it not be?

He was dead. _Dead_. Draco would never see _and be seen _by him. He would never hold and _be held_. Never…

Draco mentally jerked himself out of his thoughts. If he had continued any longer, he would have ruined his precarious composure. It was the only thing he had left to him, and he wasn't willing to give the Order that as well. He had already given them _him_, wasn't that enough?

And he wasn't willing to show those that had hated him for so long what he was truly feeling at the moment. Even though everything Slytherin in him was screaming to put a stop to this idiotic pride (because his true emotions may be the only thing that could save his life), he wouldn't.

He didn't want to be acquitted. He didn't was to be believed, or saved, or _pitied_.

At least if they blamed him the guilt wouldn't be quite as bad. If they accepted him, he didn't know if he could deal with any of it.

Draco's line of thought was interrupted again, this time by an outside source, rather than his own mind.

The blonde's chin was forced upward and his nose plugged by rough hands, hands he soon identified as belonging to Kingsley Shaklebolt, while a woman he guessed was his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, poured a clear liquid into his mouth.

Veritaserum.

And a double does at that.

Not that it was needed, his thoughts had already become disjointed before the potion bottle had even been emptied.

"What is your name?"

Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."

"What is the date?"

"I don't know." And he didn't know. He had tried to avoid it in fact, not that it had been hard to do so in the Order's dungeon, but he knew which date had been approaching, and he hoped beyond hope that today wasn't that day…

"The date is July 31, 1999, Mr. Malfoy."

If it hadn't been for the potion he probably would have broken out in hysterical laughter.

Merlin. It was his birthday.

"Did you cast the spell that killed Harry James Potter?"

"Yes."

"What spell did you cast to kill Harry James Potter?"

Didn't they know?

"The Killing Curse."

"Why?"

Pause. What? Why what?

"Perhaps I should have been clearer? W-"

"Yes."

_Serves him right. Asking rhetorical questions…_

"Of course." There was a twinkle in the man's eyes, it's intensity dampened only by current events. Why the man found his answer humorous though, Draco couldn't even begin the answer.

"Why did you cast the Killing Curse on Harry James Potter?"

"I had to."

_Let them take that as they may_ _, _said the part of Draco that was Slytherin to the core, no matter what potion influenced him or what event had occurred. It was the only part of himself that could remain unchanged-despite everything.

ooo

The Order had decided to suspend the prisoner's questioning until further discussion.

_Further discussion of what?_ Ron wanted to know.

Ron didn't understand. The _git _had admitted to killing Harry, why was there all this debate over whether they should take action against the _Slytherin_. Why had they delayed the questioning? Didn't the Order know they were wasting precious time? Time they could be using to cause that _ ferret_ as much pain as he was causing him, as he was causing Ginny?

Ginny, who had so obviously been meant to be with Harry. So they had "put their relationship on hold" and "stopped dating" for the duration of the war. All that meant was that Harry had truly loved his sister and wanted to keep her safe. Now that _Junior Death Eater_ had hurt his family. Again.

Ron made himself a promise as he watched various Order members debate.

He would make sure, when the Order finally reached the obvious conclusion, that _Malfoy_ was given the chance to enjoy the full wrath of the Weasley clan.

ooo

Draco didn't understand why Dumbledore had halted the questioning, and by the look on many of the younger members' faces (most notably Weasely), neither did they. The older members of the Order, though, especially senior members such as Snape and McGonagall (and Dumbledore obviously), had looked more pensive than they had a right to, Draco thought.

He watched as the Order filed back into the room and prepared the re-administration of the truth serum.

"My apologizes, Mr. Malfoy. We are ready to continue now," Dumbledore said, as if they were discussing something as common and benign as breakfast, not an interrogation.

Draco watched, his face utterly blank as the potion took hold. Underneath the potion induced stupor, though, Draco was beginning to feel nervous. What kind of questions would he be asked? Draco prayed none of the questions would reveal what he most wished to keep secret…

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, were you in the service of Voldemort?"

"Yes." Draco could have cried with relief.

Dumbledore seemed to have expected this answer. After all, couldn't they see the mark on his wrist?

"Did you enter his service willingly?"

"Yes." _As long as the questions follow a pattern like this, _Draco thought,_ I'll be able to convince them I am completely guilty. _Draco didn't pause to wonder at the irony of his thoughts.

An expression of an almost surprised unhappiness spread across Dumbledore's face for less than a second, as if this had been unexpected.

"Why did you enter into Voldemort service?"

The Order was almost as confused as Draco. Why did it matter why he became a Death Eater? All that mattered was that he was one.

Draco strove for a certain amount of vagueness, "I was asked."

"Who requested that you join?" Dumbledore continued to wheedle, searching for some answer that the rest did not understand.

_Damn._ "Harry James Potter."

There was a gasp, followed by exclamations.

Dumbledore seemed pleased with himself, and Draco glared as strongly as the potion allowed him (which was barely), but he felt he got his point across, as Dumbledore's pleasure only increased.

"Mr. Malfoy, I apologize yet again, but I feel we must take another short break." Dumbledore stood and subtly herded the Order out of the room, where, Draco assumed, the Headmaster would lead them in a more _organized_ discussion than the one the members were partaking in at the moment.

Draco nodded vaguely as he watched the Order file out, refusing to meet the gazes of those that glanced at him with confusion and accusations in their eyes.

ooo

Hermione didn't understand.

She had admitted it quietly as the Order discussed.

Hermione didn't understand.

Why would Harry _recruit_ anyone to be a _Death Eater_, let alone Malfoy? She had always been one of Harry's closest friends, but she had no clue what the man in the other room was talking about. Everything he had said before was expected. Understood. Explainable. Precedented. The questioning had been more a formality than a true trial. Everyone had already known the outcome.

Or so she had thought.

She could tell many were thinking similar things.

The initial hubbub had died down and the majority was watching with rapt attention as Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape debated possibilities and future questions, others sat silently.

Hermione sat quietly and waited for Dumbledore to continue the questioning, only understanding that she would not understand any of this until the full story had been told.

ooo

Dumbledore sat in front of Draco and gazed at him with unreadable eyes.

Draco stared back. He knew it was foolish. _He _had told him of Dumbledore's Legilimancy talents. Draco consciously strengthened his Occlumency shield, but refused to look away.

The Aurors walked forward, preparing to administer the potion yet again, but the Headmaster gestured for them to wait.

"Mr. Malfoy, before we continue with the _official _questioning. Would you mind if I asked you some questions while you aren't- _ahem- _under the influence?" A benevolent smile.

Draco continued his staring contest as if Dumbledore had never said anything. The man really was barmy, wasn't he?

"Mr. Malfoy?"

_Fine. I'll answer if I must. _

"If I must, " Draco echoed his thoughts.

Another benevolent smile. "Why did Harry ask you to join the Death Eaters?"

_Okay. Think fast._ " I'm sure I wouldn't know. Not that it wasn't exactly the sweetest request I've ever heard, mind you," Draco tried to hsi hardest to sound pompous and stereotypical _pureblood_. "After all, 'Malfoy, why don't you join your fucking Death Eater father?' isn't exactly the way any civil pureblood expects to be spoken to."

"I see. Is that all?"

_No._ "Yes."

"Nymphadora, Kingsley."

He was dosed again.

"Why did Harry James Potter ask you to join Voldemort?"

Draco attempted to keep his thoughts focused on the specific time _he _had said the phrase Draco had repeated to Dumbledore. Some time in fourth year maybe? Fifth? He didn't know. He honestly couldn't remember exactly why _he _had been provoked to yell that at him at the time.

"I don't know."

Dumbledore looked at him, thinking deeply about his next question or possibly Draco's answer.

"How many times did Harry James Potter suggest that you join that Lord Voldemort?"

"I don't know."

_Before, he_ had always been yelling at him for some reason, and he was sure that some variation of that insult had been used over and over again. But it was obviously true, he didn't know how many times it had been yelled.

Dumbledore sighed when any other man would be beyond frustration.

"I see that this method of questioning is ineffective. Mr. Malfoy, I will make a statement and you will tell me if it is correct or not, understood?"

_Oh dear._ "Yes."

"Harry James Potter requested that you spy on Voldemort's army for him."

_Fuck. I am most certainly not going to enjoy this method of questioning. _"Yes."

"You agreed to do so, and then rose within the ranks and eventually to inner circle."

"Yes."

"You have never supported Voldemort's cause."

_Ha. I was _raised_ to support Voldemort's ideals. _"No."

"Within the years of open war, you did not support Voldemort's cause."

"Yes."

The war had been publicly declared by the middle of his sixth year. By that time, he had already been an unknown, if minor, contributor to the Order. After all he did know all the ins and outs of pureblood society and the allegiances of each family better than most.

There was a low murmur that was slowly becoming louder with each answer. Before it was required that they take another recess, Dumbledore gestured meaningfully at the small assembly behind him.

"Within the years of open war, the information you gathered accounted for a large number Harry James Potter's "visions," did they not?"

"Yes." Perceptive old coot.

"Now, see that wasn't so difficult."

_Fuck you, _Draco groused internally.

"Well, of course, Mr. Malfoy, I do have more questions to ask you, but I believe these would be best answered after the potion wears off."

_Bastard_. Why was he trying to prove his-his what? His innocence? He had already admitted that he had cast the Killing Curse-an _Unforgivable Curse-_ on their hero. What more did they need to convict? Why did he need to know that Draco hadn't bought in on the Dark Lord's cause?

Why?

ooo

Ginny was still in shock or maybe denial. She kept thinking _he_ would pop out from behind one of the thread-bare curtains and yell "Surprise!," proclaiming it all to be a stupid joke. She would berate him then hug him within an inch of his life before-perhaps-kissing him, like they had before the war had truly begun.

It was over, but he wasn't here!

But Malfoy was. Malfoy had killed Harry, and Dumbledore was smiling at him. Why was Dumbledore smiling at him? How could he be smiling at that-that _murderer_!

She just didn't understand what was happening, and she wasn't sure she wanted to.

ooo

"Mr. Malfoy, I know this would be considered a highly personal question, but did you and Harry have a relationship?"

Draco could hear gasps of outrage and murmurs of the indecency and ridiculousness of Dumbledore's question. Draco couldn't help but feel some twisted joy. But still had to stare at the old man incredulously. Did he honestly think he would just answer that?

"Mr. Malfoy, If you do not willingly answer, I will have to use Veritaserum, " the Headmaster lowered his voice before continuing, " and this is not the type of thing one should be forced to admit."

Draco froze. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He hadn't wanted anyone to know the truth. If he was honest with himself, he had been hoping the Order would execute him on principle, but it seemed Dumbledore was determined to force a _true_ confession out of him.

"Such relationships are taboo and highly inappropriate, Headmaster."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"It is insulting that you would ask me such a question."

Dumbledore's eyebrow rose further, conveying an unspoken "Are you finished yet?". The expression was so familiar, so _Harry_, that it almost felt like betrayal to continue his facade.

"Fine," Draco said in a hard voice, glancing to the side.

"It is understandable, Mr. Malfoy, but an answer if you will?"

Looking directly into the old man's eyes, Legilimancy be damned, he whispered, "Yes."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco nodded vaguely and looked away, refusing to meet anyone else's eyes.

"I will need to confer with a few of my colleagues for a moment."

ooo

Harry was homosexual?

How could this be?

Ginny was shocked. Hadn't Harry loved her? How could he love men, if he had loved her?

Ron didn't want to accept this. Harry had been like a brother to him, and someday, he had always known that Harry would become his brother_-in-law_. It just seemed like the most logical and natural thing to him. Harry had loved Ginny, right? If Malfoy had -loved- Harry, how could he kill him?

Hermione began to put the pieces together. Dumbledore's actions definitely seemed more logical now (as did Harry's, when Hermione began to think back, though the length of time these odd actions had occurred bothered Hermione slightly). She was glad in a way, that Harry had loved _someone_. Hermione had known for a long time (though none of the Weasleys seemed willing to admit it) that Harry hadn't loved Ginny anymore than he would love a younger sister.

Ginny was devastated; Ron was confused, and Hermione had finally begun to understand.

ooo


	2. Goodbye

A/N:

Happy (Belated) Troika Day!

Yup. Part 2 of A Year Goes By. Not originally planned...but, it was demanded by the dedicatee (word? XD) of teh first, so here it is. A gift for Reno for Troika Day!

Unbeta'd (as usual XD)

xxxxxxxxx

Eyes stared from all around him. He felt naked.

He wished they were still insisting on Veritaserum.

At least then, he would have no choice. At least then, he could distance himself from this story.

But whether out of sadism or misplaced pity, the Order had abandoned the truth potion.

Draco closed his eyes. It hurt to breath. It hurt to speak. It hurt to even think about explaining, but it was pointless to hide. They already knew so much.

"He was a Horcrux."

The Headmaster's face fell, almost imperceptibly, noticeable only to the few that watched closely.

The old man had suspected this, but to hear that it was true...

"Harry was a Horcrux, and he asked me to--to _fix_ him."

"Fix him?" That was Granger's voice, Draco thought.

"Yes. That's what he said to me." A burst of hysterical laughter. "He asked me to _fix _him. That son of a bitch sat in front of me, calmer than I had ever seen him, and he asked me to _fix him_."

Draco knew he was crying, but made no move to cover himself from view. He made no move to dry his eyes.

The headmaster stood.

"Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy, it would best if we took a few moments to--"

"Did you know my name isn't Malfoy?"

Draco eyes were glazed, and his gaze focused on something imperceptible to those around him.

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Slowly, the blond looked up at the headmaster. "Never mind."

The headmaster nodded and walked out of the room. Silently, the Order followed the headmaster, all eyes averted from the proverbial elephant in the room.

--

He cried.

Sitting there, in the middle of the Order's Headquarters, realization hit Draco.

It was the first time he had cried since Harry had died.

He hadn't had time.

He had been bound to a chair, amid strangers and enemies. Among people he couldn't trust.

He still wasn't sure of his fate.

But at that moment, he was finding it hard to care.

It made him cry all the harder to realize that he hadn't had time to cry for Harry.

The man he had loved, still loved, most in the world had died, and he hadn't even cried for him.

He hadn't even seen his body. The moment the curse had hit Harry, the Order had attacked, captured.

He didn't know if Harry had been buried yet.

He must have been.

_How long had it been?_

Maybe it wasn't too late.

--

Dumbledore entered the room, alone, though Draco knew the rest of the Order was likely gathered outside the door, listening to every word.

"Where is Harry?"

"Mr. Malfoy--" The Headmaster's voice was sympathetic and gentle. Draco couldn't help but find it disgustingly patronizing.

"Tell me, where is he?"

"Harry is dead."

Draco stared a moment. Did the Headmaster think he had gone insane? Perhaps he was, in some ways, but he was still aware of reality, _thank you very much. _

"I'm well aware of that, Headmaster. I believe I, more than anyone else, would know that. I want to know if he has been buried yet."

"No, Mr. Malfoy, he has not."

Deep breath. "May I see him." It was not a request.

Clear eyes gazed searchingly at the blonde.

"Yes."

--

He was hyper aware as he stepped into the small, dark room.

He heard the door close behind him, hardly making a noise.

He heard the footsteps, quietly walking a few paces from the door before stopping.

He felt the stillness in the air, though perhaps, Draco admitted to himself, the stillness was more psychological than real.

Draco stepped forward. He lifted the sheet back from Harry's face, and smiled a bittersweet smile.

He brought a hand to cup the cold cheek, almost removing his hand when his mind forced him to think of the stillness and cold beneath his fingers.

But Draco refused to remove his hand despite the impulse.

He wanted a moment with Harry, and this was likely his last chance.

No matter how still, this would be the last time his eyes would ever focus on the flesh of this face.

No matter how cold, this would be the last time his hand could ever touch this cheek.

Draco's eyes remained dry, remained focused on Harry's face.

Draco kissed unmoving lips and held unmoving hands.

He stood, gazing, into a familiar face that was so dissimilar to the one he had cherished; it could have been another's.

He stood, before murmuring a word to Harry, and turning away.

"Goodbye."

Draco knew he heard a familiar voice echo him.

--


End file.
